


lay right here till the night is over

by thisapathy



Series: darling, let me be broken with you [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Carl is still so sad honestly, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Potential Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 01:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5073343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisapathy/pseuds/thisapathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was gonna have a baby once," he says, voice quiet. Strained.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lay right here till the night is over

**Author's Note:**

> takes place 3(ish) years after [sad boy, who did this to you?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4853660)
> 
> contains potential spoilers for the comics, i guess ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own

Carl walks onto the porch, steps into the late autumn breeze. Michonne and Carol scurry out behind him. Daryl’s perched on the railing like Daryl’s always perched.

“What’s goin’ on?” Daryl asks, gruff.

“Maggie’s having her baby.”

Daryl nods, picks at his teeth with his thumb nail. After a beat he asks, “Ain’t you goin’ with ‘em?”

Carl shakes his head, doesn’t think he could deal with it, doesn’t want to deal with it. "I was gonna have a baby once," he says, voice quiet. Strained.

Daryl stares at him for a long time. "You ‘n’ Rick?"

Carl nods. "I was fifteen." He swallows something dry in his throat. "I was on birth control. It happened anyway."

Daryl's still looking at him. Maybe Daryl's waiting for him to continue, but Carl doesn't think he can.

"Did—?"

Carl glances over at him. Daryl's probably wondering what happened, if the baby died, if—

"I got rid of it.” He doesn't try to sugarcoat it because that’ll only hurt worse. And honestly, that's not even fair, because _he_ didn't get rid of it. "Rick made me."

Daryl hums.

Carl looks down at his shoes. "I never even told my mom. It happened right before everything else. It just... it seemed so trivial, I guess, when the world was ending and I was still upset about something that happened a week before. Then my mom got pregnant, and there was no way... I was so mean to her." His voice is quaking; he doesn't even try to disguise it. "It just didn't seem fair." And then he has to stop talking.

Silence settles between them but Carl doesn't mind. It's comfortable. He doesn't have to talk about the baby, feels better about telling Daryl for whatever reason. He wonders about it a lot, wonders if was a boy or a girl. He wonders if it would've had blue eyes, too, like him and Rick. But those thoughts are dangerous and Carl has to remind himself that the world has ended and there are more important things to worry about.

And yeah, he has Judith and she's his but she's not his. She calls him Carl and she calls Rick ‘Daddy’, which Carl hates and doesn't understand. He's more of a parent to her than Rick is, not to mention it's unfair because Judith isn't even _related_ to Rick. Carl doesn't even try to make sense of it because he never will. He wants _his_ baby, his own baby, not his half-sister. What hurts the most is now they're safe, their community is stable, they have a surgeon, but he and Rick have drifted apart. They still sleep together in the same bed, Rick hasn't touched him in months. He tells himself it's because Rick is getting older, but he's not sure he even believes that anymore. All Carl wants to do is talk to him, and he doesn't even know how.

He doesn't even know how old he is now, thinks he's 19, but he may be off by a few months. It's irrelevant anyway, doesn't matter because there are still 26 years between him and Rick. It seems less now than before, but Rick still has the final say.

He's old enough to handle being a parent; he knows that from experience with Judith. There are other people around to help. The yearning’s never really left, was pushed to the back of his mind with other unimportant concerns, but now they're settled. They're stable. They _could_.

Carl's feet carry him into the house, up the stairs to their bedroom before he even knows what he's doing. He knows where to find Rick because Rick is so predictable. As expected, the door is open a crack and Carl can see a flash of skin before he bumps the door open.

"Dad?" Carl asks. It's been Rick for so long that 'Dad' sounds so strange and foreign.

Rick's dressing on the opposite side of the room, hesitates before answering. "Yeah?"

Carl doesn't know how this'll go, doesn't know if they'll get anywhere, doesn't know if he'll work up to telling Rick what he wants. He sits on the edge of their bed, unholsters his gun and sets it on the nightstand. He opens his mouth to speak, finding his throat to be dry, as if lined with wool.

Rick slips on a soft t-shirt, covering up years of scars with crisp white cotton. "Everything okay?"

Carl nods, but it's not. He knows what to say, wants to say it, but doesn't know how. It's like he's 15 and pregnant all over again and he's paralyzed with fear, scared of what Rick's going to say. He dares himself to look up, meets Rick's soft blue eyes with his own. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," Rick nods.

"Did... did I do something wrong?" He closes his eyes momentarily, can't believe that came out of his mouth, that he let his insecurities slip out just like that.

"No," Rick says, confused. He sits down beside Carl, the edge of the bed sinking under his weight.

"It's just that you—" He sighs, irritated at himself. "Never mind." He stands up to leave, is surprised when Rick grabs his wrist gently.

"I what? Sit."

Carl sits again, swallows. Rick releases his wrist.

"It's stupid."

"What's stupid?"

There's a beat of silence. Rick runs his fingers through Carl's hair, a vague sign of affection. Carl thinks about them, how they are now, distant and out of sync, how they were okay after Judith was born. He thinks about how they are now, an old married couple, and there's so much sadness.

“I want...”

"You want what?" Rick repeats.

"It’s just that Maggie’s having her baby and..."

He's sad, upset, feels like there should be tears but he's got no tears left to cry. He can say it in his head over and over, _I want a baby, I want a baby, I want a baby_ , but physically cannot make the words come out of his mouth. And Rick knows, he fucking knows what Carl’s talking about and he’s playing dumb and Carl feels like he’s drowning in his own heartache.

It clicks.

"You have Judith," Rick finally responds, as if that's the answer to every fucking problem. And yes, Carl loves her, loves her more than anything, and she's his, but she's not _his_.

"It's not the same," Carl answers. "She’s not mine.”

Rick emits a long, slow breath. “I don’t think—”

When he looks at Rick, he feels empty, a sad, dull anguish, because Rick is saying no. And Carl’s not surprised, doesn’t pretend to be, can’t be angry at Rick because he knew how this would go. He’s doing nothing but torturing himself and he can’t stop. “ _Please_.”

“Carl—”

“What?” he snaps.

Rick sighs again, curls his hand around Carl’s neck and pulls him close enough to kiss his forehead. Carl’s eyes flutter closed because it’s been so long since Rick’s done anything like that.

“I don’t think it can happen,” Rick says slowly. “I think it would have happened already if... if it even could. I’m sorry.”

Carl rips himself away, stands up, feels the strange, antiquated feeling of tears stinging at his eyes. Maybe that’s why Rick’s stopped touching him, maybe it was all just a pity play. Maybe Rick just felt guilty about the first time, maybe the reason it can’t happen again is because Carl never got the proper aftercare after the world went to shit.

Rick reaches, grabs his hand. ”I know it’s not what you wanted to hear. I know. I’m sorry.”

A solitary tear slips down Carl's cheek and Rick tugs him down, pulls him close. Kisses his cheek four times, whispers 'I'm sorry' more times than he can count.

Somewhere deep down Carl had a feeling, but he buried it with childish hopes and wants and dreams of things that can never be. Maybe it took someone else to tell him, gently, that Judith is his, even if she isn’t _his_ and that he'll probably never have a baby of his own if it hasn't happened already.

He pulls back just a little, doesn't dare look Rick in the eye. Feels so open, so exposed, so vulnerable. "Is that why you don't touch me anymore? Why we haven't—?"

"What?" Rick asks softly.

"Because you know I can't—"

"No," Rick says, rushed. "No, no. Of course not."

Rick hugs him, and he rests his chin on Rick's shoulder, hugs him back. He closes his eyes, buries his nose in the crook of Rick's neck and it smells like home. Feels Rick's fingers in his hair, feels bruised and tired.

When Rick pulls back, Carl doesn't want to move away, but he's caught off guard when Rick kisses him. It's slow, calculated, safe. He pulls away, rests their foreheads together and Carl's still kind of reeling in shock.

"I love you," Rick whispers against his lips.

Carl can't remember the last time those words came out of Rick's mouth, but he remembers the last time he heard them. It was when he put Judith to bed last night, the same 3 words in a childish, sleepy murmur.

"I love you," Rick repeats. "I'm sorry."

For what specifically, Carl doesn’t know. Rick has a hundred things to be sorry for. He licks his lips, whispers back, "I love you too."

Rick lies down on the bed, pulls Carl with him. Carl turns, rests his head on Rick’s forearm. And yeah, Rick’s hurt him in some of the worst ways imaginable, but right now Rick’s here for him, which is exactly what Carl needs.

Carl closes his eyes when Rick’s hand slides up the back of his shirt, breathes slow and deep. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” he whispers.

There’s a short pause. “I thought you needed space,” Rick explains. “Seems like you did. Always yellin’ about somethin’, actin’ out.”

Carl nods, eyes still closed. Can’t tell Rick that he was yelling and acting out because of _him_ , because he felt like Rick didn’t want him, didn’t love him anymore. “I’m just... tired. I’m tired.” Not tired, exhausted and hurting and full of so much pent up anger and sadness.

“I know.”

They’re together, but it still feels like they’re miles apart. Less so when Carl lets Rick kiss him, though. Carl craves it, welcomes it. Lets himself be pressed into the bed, lets Rick leave soft kisses on his warm skin, lets Rick fuck him till he’s moaning because it’s good. It’s so much better than it used to be and Carl doesn’t know why. Maybe because he wants it, knows for a fact that he wants it, spreads his legs wide, lets Rick lick into his mouth.

It lasts a matter of minutes, and afterwards Carl settles into Rick’s welcoming arms.

*

Carl still doesn't get pregnant, even though they’re trying. Maybe it's punishment, maybe it's a blessing, maybe the first time was a fluke. Maybe it's just fate.

 


End file.
